Lyrics:
Checkin' in, just touchin' base
And just slowin' down
Back on the ground
I drop by to check on mama
For a minute
Ehyo
If you got a crazy verse for this
Drop it imma listen to it
Duet it go crazy
Oba Lurge is in the building
I hate to let my momma down
It
to the silence
When I cut my radio
As I kneel down broken on the floor
A voice in my car stereo says
The road is goin' to drop
There's a dead end sign in
Yeah my mama used to bang that P-Funk
Rollin' down Lakeshore right by the beachfront
See the (whoop whoop!)
And we hope it ain't the loved ones
See
Cold what I'm reppin'
Big .38 for the weapon (ah)
Man down, check the scoreboard
I'm a bulldog with this .44
Break legs like Paul George
Said, I
lil' mama what it do?
Yeah nigga I'm burnt, lil' mama what it do?
Shorty you burnt, lil' mama what it do?
If a nigga make a move, lil' mama comin'
dat")
Hit it so hard mamacita
Come and let me inspect yo thigh
Open up because I got a new exercise
I can drop it down pick up the flow
Hit that
mamacita
Come and let me inspect yo thigh
Open up because I got a new excercise
I can drop it down pick up the flow
Hit that bitch up with the rythm
nobody know my troubles but God (we cannot look at this, as an isolated incident)
My mama still sick (sick), ain't shit new (nah)
Ain't much changed,
Let's take a trip down
I gotcha
Let's take a trip down memory, lane at the cemetery
Rain, grey skies, seems at the end of every
Young black life is
rain
Oh baby, but when I kiss your lips
The clouds begin to roll away
Uh, down to my finger tips
I feel the happiness each day
Oh, my Mama said
(Park your car)
Marcus got church
But they just waiting on death dates to drop
(Dates to drop)
Back to back, splat after splat
I told to handle that (To
I'm Dana Dane
Put a patch over your eye, fuck with my petty change
Fuck what you heard, for that bird I'm a dirty nigga
Laid to rest by the one you
gettin' pay day, day yeah
We're just gettin' by (by)
Savin' on the side (side)
I just can't believe
I got what I wanted all my life, now we go
Yeah,
back, and relax at one time
With the rhyme co-signed by Doc Funkenstein.
We drop something fine with nothing to prove
It's one nation under a groove now
Pump pump pom pom POING!
Yo this goes out to George Bush
Get off my... diggi diggi diggi dick diggi diggi diggi dick
Diggi diggi diggi
This song right here is dedicated to the president of the United States of America
Y'all might know him as George Bush
But where I'm from, lost
always cook some dinner
Got no place to go
Oh mama, will you stand by me
Wind is blowing through the crooked trees
I need laughter i need music
I need
his birthday, I'm the reason he got his hair cut
Turned on by my stank walk, now he can't talk
But I'ma give him what he came for
Drop that shit, now
with nothin' to loose
I BB a king so let me sing you the blues
Let me lay down the rules,
Get money by all means,
Survive at all costs put god 'bove
I'm hot, I breaks it down
It ain't my fault, you can't break it down
The way I break it down
Some days I'm in the crowd, all by myself
Bunch
scripture
Mama said he was a good kid, thinkin' would kid
I signed my deal with my AP on
In the drop top with the AC on
Stuntin' with Cash Money, get my
stop when they hit you in your top and back
No cocking back, silly motherfucker, you ain't heard 'bout this
The clips hang down to the dick
That's
face down
Hoodie gang strong like Trayvon
Gun by the window like Detroit Red
Bring that shit by the neck of my woods
And bet a nigga ass end up dead
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